


Walk in My Shadow

by lunabee34 (Lorraine)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demonic Possession, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:16:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorraine/pseuds/lunabee34
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the first fics I wrote in this fandom.  For Emily, my SPN-enabler, the glorious gal who introduced me to all things Sam and Dean.  She wanted Evil!Dean hetsex inspired by the lyrics of "Walk in my Shadow" by Free.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk in My Shadow

“Are you sure, Sam? She doesn’t fit the profile.” Dean slides a newspaper clipping of a young brunette from a file folder and studies the image carefully. Audrey Smith, 23, graduate assistant in the Classics Department at the local university, hell of a rack. Nice smile, too.

“No. But in my vision, I think she was moving a lamp around with her mind. Maybe. I don’t know,” Sam says. He slumps forward and pinches the bridge of his nose, hard. “The visions are so distorted sometimes, I can’t make out fine details. Even if she’s not one of the other psychics, she still needs our help.”

“Good enough for me.” 

Dean resists the urge to ask Sam if he’s alright for the tenth time and settles for a shower instead. Sam hasn’t said anything, but Dean knows his visions are getting worse, violent torrents of image that leave his brother strung out and silent for days. And every time they roll into a town and find another psychic waving the banner for the YED, Sam closes in on himself just a little more. Dean thinks maybe he can hook Sam up with this Audrey girl, get him to unwind and have a good time. His track record on that score’s not so hot, but Dean’s an optimist.

The water’s just shy of scalding and Dean’s thinking of ways to divert Audrey’s inevitable attention from himself to Sam when it happens. He hears metal ricochet against the tile of the shower and watches the charm Bobby gave him spiral toward the drain. “Fuck!” He scrabbles for it, knocking his head on the soap dish in the process, but it slips through the grate easy as a coin in a jukebox. Dean stands then, rolling his joints and flexing his muscles like he’s just trying them out for the first time. He blinks and his eyes flash yellow and reptilian through the steam.

@@@

Audrey locks her office door behind her and pockets the keys. Her apartment’s close, less than two blocks away, and usually Audrey enjoys the walk, but tonight she’s wary for some reason, looking over her shoulder every five minutes and flinching at the sounds that echo along the street. At the corner of Smith and Main, Audrey sees a man lurking in the alley between Subway and the print shop. She doubles her step.

“Audrey Smith?”

The guy’s tall, wearing blue jeans and this leather jacket with the collar turned up like he’s James Dean or something. He smiles, sly and predatory, arms loose at his sides and palms facing out like he’s got nothing to hide. Audrey doesn’t answer.

“I know what you are. What you can do,” he says.

She pauses, threads her keys through her fingers and makes a fist. “Who are you?”

He laughs. “The man of your dreams.” His eyes flare gold at her and Audrey remembers vague slices of nightmare—a yellow iris and the sick-sweet of flowing blood; fire licking at her body like a lover, and power, god, so much power, rippling into her, right down to the bone. “But you can call me Dean.” He crooks his finger, reeling her in, pulling her towards him despite herself. 

The alley is narrow with two big dumpsters wedged against a fence at its end. In the half-light, with the print shop’s brick wall solid at her back, Audrey’s courage returns. _Focus on something small_ , she thinks. She reaches out with her mind, snags a lamp from the open dumpster and flings it at Dean’s head. He flicks his hand, setting it in a lazy spin between them.

“That won’t work on me, sweetheart.” He crosses the distance between them. Dean pulls Audrey’s head back by her long brown hair, exposing a stretch of tanned neck. He licks up her pulse point and then pauses, just resting his lips on the beat of her blood, breath warm and wet. “I’ve got you in the shadows, now,” he says against her skin.

She shudders, this full body tremble that maybe starts as fear but ends as heat uncoiling in her belly and spreading across her thighs. Dean kisses her then, his mouth hard and bruising and Audrey can’t help leaning into him, angling her head up and canting her hips into his. Dean slides a hand up her thigh and beneath her skirt, hooks a finger under the elastic of her panties and god, it’s embarrassing those needy little sounds she makes when he flicks a nail across her clit, how wet she is already when he’s barely even touched her.

Then Dean brings her off, quick and dirty, two fingers buried deep inside and his thumb grinding against her. When Audrey comes, he breaks the kiss and just watches her, his gaze intent as she gasps and writhes on his hand. The rasp of his zipper is obscenely loud to her and then Dean’s hiking Audrey up on the wall, never breaking eye contact.

He fucks her slow, like they’ve got all the time in the world now, and Audrey can feel something building up around them and whipping the air in the alley electric. She moans and rakes her fingernails down one of Dean’s forearms, snagging a bracelet and ripping it from his wrist. When Dean finally comes, eyes alien and blazing, she feels it, that power from her dream, rushing into her, filling her up, painful and sweet like the fierce clench of an orgasm. She takes a ragged breath and then another. “What do you want me to do?” she says.

@@@

Dean wakes slowly. Finding consciousness feels like wrestling his way through layers of thick, wet cotton. He’s exhausted, bone tired and achy, and he doesn’t remember falling asleep in the first place. “Sam?” he says, and his voice is dry, scratchy.

“Hey, man.” Sam offers him a glass of water. “You feeling better?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam stares at him, head cocked to the side and eyes squinched beneath his bangs. The Patented Sam Winchester Look of Befuddlement. “I mean, you’ve been in bed sick since yesterday. Are you feeling any better?”

Dean jerks up, completely awake now. “I don’t remember anything.” He runs a shaking hand through his hair and down to his necklace, intending to worry the charms, and realizes that Bobby’s isn’t there. “The last thing I remember is taking a shower. Something happened in the shower . . .” His voice trails off.

“You fainted like a little girl, is what happened.” Sam’s smirking now and Dean wants to backhand that grin right off his face, but he’s still so tired and payback’s more of a bitch served cold anyway.

“Dude, I did not faint. I don’t know what I did, but it was way more manly than that.”

Sam finally remembers his survival instincts, or else notices the Very Serious clench of Dean’s jaw, and relents. “You just had a twenty-four hour bug. Your fever was pretty high, and that’s probably why you don’t remember anything.”

“I don’t know, Sam. Something’s not right. I’ve never lost time like that before.”

Sam pauses, considering. “You want to go to the hospital, get checked out? It’s a bust here anyway. Audrey’s gone, just like the others.” Sam carefully does not look at Dean as he says this last, but Dean knows the guilt and the fear and the disappointment that must be in his eyes just the same.

Panic, that cold sharp blade, twists in his gut and Dean doesn’t mention the charm that’s missing from his neck, just says, “Show me.”

Audrey’s apartment is neat and orderly, nothing out of place, nothing overturned or broken, not even a dirty dish left in the sink. But there’s a thick deposit of sulfur on the windowsill in the bedroom and another on the jamb of the door to the balcony. At the corner of Audrey’s street, Dean finds his bracelet in a crack on the sidewalk. He tangles his fist in its length and says nothing.


End file.
